


can't pin you down

by cresswell



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: F/F, Flirting, Sparring, bisexual ladies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 10:48:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6981250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cresswell/pseuds/cresswell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She watched as Izzy took her beginning stance, suddenly feeling wary. “Um, head’s up. You’re totally going to kick my ass.”</p>
<p>Isabelle gave her a wicked smile. “I know.”</p>
<p>She swung.</p>
            </blockquote>





	can't pin you down

Clary liked Alec Lightwood in the sense that she liked teasing him and playing a game of wits. He liked her too— he’d never say it, but she knew he did— and she liked having him as her trainer, because he liked her, but not enough to go easy on her. He kicked her ass a fair amount of times, but she was learning how to kick his ass, too, and she enjoyed their sparring sessions so much that she found herself counting down the hours until the next one.

So when Alec cancelled on her last-minute, she was understandably upset.

“What do you mean the session’s cancelled?” She asked, sagging her shoulders. She sounded whiny even to her own ears, but she didn’t care.

“I mean the session’s cancelled,” he deadpanned but softened a moment later. “Look, I’m sorry. Magnus and Raphael need help with something law-related, and since Mom and Dad aren’t here, I have to be the one to help them out.”

“And also because Magnus is your boyfriend,” Clary sing-songed, bumping her hip into his. Well, into where his hip should have been if he weren’t the size of a skyscraper. She probably hit near his thigh instead.

“Yes, because Magnus is my boyfriend,” Alec said, exasperated. Clary could see that he cheeks were faintly pink. “But hey, you could train with Jace or Izzy instead.”

“I guess,” Clary sighed. “It wouldn’t be the same, though. I’ve grown rather fond of you beating the shit out of me.”

For once, he gave her a blinding smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yeah, me too.”

She smiled at him as he gathered his things and headed out, letting her shoulders droop once he was out of sight. She always got amped up before a session, and now she was alone on the mat, adrenaline coursing through her and no one to share it with. Heaving a sigh, she plopped down and began untying her shoes.

“No session today?”

Clary looked up. Izzy was leaning against the railing, her hair twisted into a long braid. “No. Your brother left me for his boyfriend.”

Izzy laughed. “Well, I can’t exactly say you’re his type.”

“You know what I mean. I’m bummed I’ll miss a session, but I get it.”

Izzy raised an eyebrow that Clary interpreted as either mischievous or flirtatious. “You don’t have to miss a session.”

Clary narrowed her eyes. “Are you offering?”

“Obviously.” Isabelle walked onto the mat, shucking off her shoes. “Besides, it’d be a shame to have gotten into that cute outfit for nothing.”

Clary laughed, stepping back a bit to give the other girl some room. “That’s true.” She watched as Izzy took her beginning stance, suddenly feeling wary. “Um, head’s up. You’re totally going to kick my ass.”

Isabelle gave her a wicked smile. “I know.”

She swung.

Clary suppressed the instinctive shriek bubbling up in her throat and lunged out of the way just in time. Isabelle’s fist just missed Clary’s chin, and she jolted back a few steps, turning to Izzy with wide eyes.

“Sorry,” Izzy said, not sounding sorry at all.

“No, don’t be.” Clary took her fighting stance, hyperaware of Isabelle’s every movement. “Give me what you got.”

This time when Izzy swung, Clary was ready and caught her fist in her hand. It sent her stumbling back a step, but she shoved it back away from her and extended her leg, kicking Isabelle’s calf. Isabelle was not at all fazed.

“Stay on the defensive if you need to,” Isabelle said, all the while slicing her hand through the air and at Clary’s neck. Clary squatted down to dodge it and swung her leg out again, this time successfully knocking Izzy down.

Clary was poised to spring, ready to pounce and pin the other girl to the ground, but before she could, Izzy was bringing her knee up into Clary’s face. The contact made Clary see stars.

Isabelle launched, pinning Clary to the ground with an apologetic wince. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Clary wheezed. She could, oddly enough, feel her pulse pounding in her face. “Ouch.”

“Need an _iratze_?”

“No, I think I’m okay for now.” She touched her hand gingerly to her nose, expecting it to be far bigger and more swollen than it was. “That was a good move.”

“Thanks.” Izzy stood, brushing dust off her pants, and helped pull Clary to her feet. “I bet my brother doesn’t use that move.”

Clary shook her head. “No. That was all you.”

Izzy smiled, squeezing her hand. “Go again?”

Clary shifted back into her stance. “Of course.” She wound her arm back for a punch, but Izzy straightened up, lifting her hands.

“Whoa, whoa,” she said. “Your punching stance is pretty off. Did Alec teach you?”

Clary frowned. “Yeah, but I might have messed it up since then.”

“Well, don’t worry. _My_ punching stance is perfect. I’ll help.”

Clary swallowed as the other girl walked around behind her. Despite her best efforts, she jumped when Isabelle’s hand touched her waist, and Izzy retracted her hand immediately. “Sorry,” she said, for once sounding flustered and embarrassed. “I should have asked first. Is it okay if I touch you?”

“Yeah,” Clary said, but her voice sounded too high, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “Yeah. I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.”

Izzy gently settled her hand back on Clary’s waist, her touch soft and hesitant. “Your force right now is in your core,” she said, lightly tapping Clary’s side. “Usually, this is where you want it. But because you’re winding up for a punch, it needs to be accessible.” She nudged Clary’s back foot with her own. “Ground yourself in your back leg. That way, you can propel yourself forward and transfer the force into your punch.”

“Makes sense.”

“Good,” Izzy said. “Use your free arm to protect your center. Brace it in front of your chest and stomach.” Clary did as told. “This way, if I try to come at you while you’re winding up, you’re ready to block me.”

“In theory,” Clary added. “But you’re much quicker than I am.”

She could practically feel Izzy’s smile behind her. “Well, I’ve just been at it longer. But you’ll get the hang of it soon enough.” Izzy patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry.”

She appeared back in Clary’s line of sight, mirroring her pose. “Okay, ready to give it a go?”

“Yeah.” Clary was nervous. She didn’t want to actually hurt Isabelle— not like this, in an isolated moment and not in the midst of a spar.

Isabelle must have sensed her nerves, because she gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be okay.”

Clary took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said. And then she threw her punch.

It landed squarely on Izzy’s cheek, and this time Clary couldn’t suppress her shriek of surprise, immediately withdrawing her hand. “Isabelle!”

Isabelle was rubbing her hand on her cheek, but she gave Clary a brilliant smile. “That was perfect,” she praised. “Although I can’t imagine you reacting like this when you punch Alec in the face.”

“He’s much more punchable,” Clary said matter-of-factly, and Isabelle laughed. Her cheek was red, but other than that, she seemed okay. “I’m sorry I punched you. I know I was supposed to, but still.”

Izzy pulled her into a hug, squeezing her arms around her back. “You’re too sweet,” she said, and Clary couldn’t tell if she was saying that in an _I-want-to-kiss-you_ way or an _I-love-my-little-sister_ way. When she caught herself thinking about it, she frowned.

“I promise I won’t apologize too an actual bad guy,” she said.

“I should hope not.” Izzy shook herself out a little, getting ready for the next attack. “Okay, again?”

“Ready when you are.”

They hovered in front of each other for a moment, both waiting for the other to make the first move, until Izzy launched herself forward. Clary squawked in surprise as Isabelle’s arms tightened themselves around her waist, and then they were both tumbling down, the wind getting knocked out of Clary. She panted. “Did you just football-tackle me?”

“I’m not sure what football is,” Izzy said, “but sure.”

Clary grinned up at her from where she was splayed on the ground, and Isabelle smiled back— until Clary’s knee was coming up right in her gut and she fell to the side with a grunt. Clary clambered on top of her and pinned her hands to the floor. “I can’t believe that worked.”

“Tip number one,” Izzy groaned. “Pretty girls are always dangerous and distracting.”

Clary’s cheeks burned red and she slid off of Isabelle, helping pull her to her feet instead. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—“

Isabelle laughed breathlessly, pressing a finger to Clary’s lips to cut her off. “Stop apologizing, Clary. You’re doing great. You’re going to kick ass in a real fight.”

Clary blushed again, feeling suddenly shy. “Thanks.”

“Again?” Isabelle asked, to which Clary nodded.

Izzy swung first this time, and Clary was glad for it. She liked blocking much more than she liked throwing, and she blocked all Izzy’s blows the best she could, knowing that her arms would be littered in bruises in the morning.

“Don’t let yourself get cornered,” Izzy said suddenly, and Clary realized that she’d been backing up in her haste to get away. She teetered at the edge of the mat, but Izzy kept coming forward, and Clary had no choice but to duck beneath the other girl’s arm and get out of the way.

Isabelle gave her an exasperated look. “What, no fight left in you?”

“That’s not— I don’t— no,” Clary stammered, backing away again, this time in the other direction.

But Isabelle advanced. “I told you, it’s okay. The whole point of this is for you to try and beat me up.”

“But I don’t want to,” Clary admitted, feeling silly and embarrassed. “You’re— I like you.”

Isabelle laughed kindly, lacing her fingers through Clary’s again. “I like you, too, Clary. That’s why I want to help you with this.” She tugged Clary closer, making her breath catch in her throat. “So if you like me, you’ll beat the shit out of me, alright?”

Clary let out a strangled laugh. Isabelle was so close, and it was different like this, when she wasn’t preparing to block or swing. “Funny, I don’t usually beat up people I like.”

“Well, you can make it up to me later.” Isabelle winked and Clary thought she was going to choke on nothing and make an even bigger fool of herself. Isabelle stepped back, her hand falling from Clary’s, and resumed her fighting stance. “Come on.”

Clary had forgotten what they’d been doing before, and she shook her head slightly, trying to force herself to focus. She mirrored Izzy’s pose, bracing herself for impact.

But it didn’t come.

Clary swung first this time, and Isabelle easy deflected it, knocking her fist aside with an elbow. Clary pressed on, keeping her arms in tight to her body, locking up her core. They had wordlessly agreed on hand-to-hand, and their arms were a blur of movement, swinging and blocking and guarding.

“That’s my girl,” Izzy said under her breath, and Clary’s chest swelled with pride.

Isabelle swung and Clary gripped her wrist without thinking, raising it above their heads and pinning it in the air. Izzy blinked in surprise. The move probably wasn’t a conventional one, but it left Isabelle’s chest open, and Clary swung her around to shake her balance. Then she drove her elbow into Isabelle’s stomach, and Isabelle dropped like a dead weight, her hands clutching at her gut.

“Oh, god,” Clary said, dropping to her knees beside her. “Oh, god, oh, god— Isabelle, I’m sorry—“

With a breathless grin, Isabelle surged up, her hands on Clary’s forearms, and shoved her onto her back. “You need to stop apologizing so damn much,” Izzy panted, her braid swinging and brushing Clary’s cheek.

“ _You_ need to stop getting distracted by pretty girls,” Clary grunted, pushing Izzy off.

Isabelle laughed and started to stand, but Clary wasn’t done yet. She reached blindly for something to grab on to and her hand latched around the end of Izzy’s braid, tugging. Isabelle shrieked and fell back down, her arms bracing her above Clary, her eyes wide.

“Oh,” Clary gasped. Isabelle was all pressed against her, and the feeling of her body was doing funny things to Clary’s heart. She released Isabelle’s braid and pulled her hand back, but her fingers brushed against Izzy’s neck and she marveled at how soft her skin was.

She waited for Isabelle to stand back up and insist another round, or stand back up and storm out, but she did neither of those things. Instead she pulled her legs in tighter to Clary’s hips and bent down, her braid swinging back against Clary’s cheek, and kissed her.

Clary went still in shock, her hands automatically going to Isabelle’s waist and holding on. Her brain seemed to short-circuit because all she could feel was Izzy’s lips and all she could see was the stars bursting behind her eyelids and all she could think was _this is what I want to do for the rest of time_ —

But Isabelle sat up abruptly, and it was the first time Clary had ever seen her blush. “Clary, I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I misread the situation. I’m sorry—“

Clary cut her off by propping herself up on her elbows and pulling Izzy back in with her braid. Isabelle fell against her with a surprised sound and this time Clary kissed her enthusiastically, sliding her hand into the hair at the nape of her neck. Isabelle melted against her, her bare stomach against Clary’s bare stomach, and Clary was feeling so much that she thought she was going into sensory overload. She ran her hands down Izzy’s waist, kissing her harder, and brought her legs up to bracket her hips.

Isabelle muttered something— a Spanish curse word, Clary thought— and ran her hand up Clary’s thigh, making her shiver. Izzy’s mouth parted her own, and Clary barely suppressed a sound as the other girl took her bottom lip between her teeth and bit.

“Oh,” Clary gasped quietly, the sound muffled against Isabelle’s mouth, and Isabelle laughed quietly. “Izzy.”

“Yes?”

Clary moved so quickly that she caught Isabelle completely off-balance, her eyes going wide and her mouth parting in surprise. Clary twisted so that Izzy was pinned beneath her, her hands pinning Isabelle’s wrists to the mat, watching as she breathed hard, her chest heaving.

Clary smirked. “Never get distracted by a pretty girl,” she said. Then she bent down and kissed her.


End file.
